


Arma-Goddamn-Motherfuckin'-Geddon

by Daryl_Grimes (Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson)



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Army, Army AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-20
Updated: 2015-11-20
Packaged: 2018-05-02 14:58:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5252528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson/pseuds/Daryl_Grimes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl and Merle met in the army, and when the elder helped the younger, it didn't take long for them to become as close as brothers. It didn't take them long after that to start an illicit, and illegal, love affair.</p><p>When the world starts to go to shit, Dixon and Rooker and deployed with their small troop, the elites of their section, to storm and clear Kentucky. </p><p>But when things go wrong, and Daryl and Merle find themselves on their own, can they survive?</p><p>And just what are all these RV trails they keep finding?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arma-Goddamn-Motherfuckin'-Geddon

**Author's Note:**

> _Note, I twisted this and Daryl and Merle are not blood related in any way. They are not biologically related in any way._
> 
> _Merle is still Merle, I just used Michael Rooker's surname for this. Merle Rooker **is** Merle Dixon, just under a different name._

_They’d seen blood baths together._  
_They’d seen the rise of empires together._  
_They’d seen the unsavoury torture of innocents together_.

_But this was something different._

_Standing on top of the hospital and staring out at piles, the_ chasms _of dead bodies, the stench of rot and puss thick in the air._

 _This was_ Armageddon _._

The smell was never something you really got used to, Daryl mused, choking down a sandwich he’d managed to scrape together. The bread was stale, but not yet mouldy, _a fucking godsend_.

Of course, he’d survived on far worse, with much less, but the man had a distinct, sinking feeling that every meal would only get worse and worse as time wore on. No oven would work now, not without propane, and a camp fire at night was much too dangerous with them... _things_ walking around, quiet until they were right behind you.

That’s what happened to the rest of Daryl’s troop.

Stephens had disappeared and everyone had stared at the empty space before more of them... geeks poured out of the trees surrounding them, beckoned in by the light of the fire. He and Rooker had managed to get away, lurching off and shooting behind them. They’d thought that Cooper, Chaplin, Ritter and Hanson would follow them, but when they looked behind at the sound of screams, they realised.

It was just them.

And it had been just them for the past three weeks, dodging into houses that didn’t belong to them. Using silenced snipers to clear out as much of the street as they could before they made a dash for a jeep or a truck or just about anything with doors and an engine.

They were alone, once more.

They’d made their way through Kentucky; they’d shot so many nurses and doctors, checked every door, and left comatose patients to their inevitable deaths...

It kept Daryl up at night.

Their faces haunted him to the point he’d shoot upright, panting, sweating, and stumbling out of his tent, or bed, to collapse on the floor around the small fire they’d dared to build.

Merle would wrap a comforting arm around him before silently moving off to catch some kip of his own. It was how they worked.

They worked how they were trained and they wouldn’t stray from it until this Armageddon was over.

xox

“Yer think it will ever end?”

Merle glanced over at his team mate, frowning softly.

“What makes yer think it won’t?”

“How many o’ them geeks d’ya think started walking around? And then how many did they infect? And then how many people did they infect? And then how many people died and turned into that shit?”

Merle was silent, chewing on a splinter of wood.

“Yer got a point.”

“There’s probably a good couple million o’them things walking around. How many of them are just in ‘Merica? This thing hit worldwide I tell ya that now.”

Silence fell over the duo, both of them flinching at the silence of nature.

“Yer think anyone other than us, survived, Dixon?”

Daryl was silent, chewing on the inside of his mouth as he glanced around. “I think other people survived. But, fer how long... that I can’t say.”

Both men sighed and Daryl suddenly got hit with a wave of loneliness. It was choking, dragging him down completely and his eyes widened slightly. Merle must have seen, because his arm was wrapping around the younger of the two, tugging him in close.

“Jesus, Dixon, yer freezing.”

Merle shifted back, yanking his camouflage jacket off and wrapping it around him. “Where’s yer jacket?”

“Lost it at the lost town. Geek had hold o’it and I didn’t fancy becoming chow.”

Merle frowned and sighed, tugging the younger onto his lap. “I know it’s hard. Feels like we’re the last two around. Like we’re the last two alive. But it ain’t so bad, is it?”

A blush covered Dixon’s cheeks and he managed to muster a smile, turning his head to the face mere inches from his.

“Yer know, Rooker, it’s been a long time since we have.”

“I doubt we could get that far. I wouldn’t trust this. I got a bad feeling about this place and I don’t wanna tempt fate. Can’t lose ya now I got this far wi’ya can I?”

A soft laugh escaped the younger’s lips and he turned back to the fire, missing the smile spreading onto Merle’s face. It had been much, much too long since he had heard his lover laugh.

“Remember when we first met?”

“Yer scrawny ass being my bunk mate and failing every single race and training program we had and yer almost being kicked out o’ army camp before I helped train yer up? Yer mean that?”

Daryl laughed again, turning to lean his head on Merle’s shoulder. “Yea. That... I never knew you’d mean so much to me.”

“One night in Budapest was all it took. If I’d known that, I would have done a solo mission wi’ya sooner.”

The two men watched each other for a moment before leaning in to gently press their lips together, holding each other as close as they could. Merle moved to deepen the kiss, tilting his head ever so slightly so their lips meshed at the right angle and so, when Daryl’s mouth inevitably opened ever so slightly, his tongue could slip in at the right damn angle to make Daryl shiver when their tongues rubbed together.

“I love yer, Daryl. I ain’t lost you in Afghanistan. Iraq. Iran. I ain’t losing yer now. Not in our home country.”

“Well that’s good, ‘cuz yer’d never be rid o’me. I’d haunt yer ass.”

“Rather keep yer on a leash.”

“I’d rather yer shot me.”

Silence fell among the men once more as they stared at each other’s palms, minds on the blood pact they’d made long ago in Budapest.

_If we get caught by the enemy... we kill each other. Never let the bastards take us alive._

They hadn’t needed to renew it this time. Not when America went to hell.

It went without saying.

 _If I get bit, kill me. Remember me as the man you loved and not the monster I’ll inevitably turn into_.

“Yer need sleep, Dixon.”

“On it, Sergeant.”

The younger stood and stretched, before he gently wrapped Merle’s jacket back around him, heading off for the small tent as close to the fire as he dared.

It didn’t take long for his exhausted eyes to drop close, and for his mind to turn to black.


End file.
